


Rave Atlantis: Bonus Track (Come to Me)

by Reccea



Series: Rave Atlantis (by Smittywing) [2]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-15
Updated: 2010-10-15
Packaged: 2017-10-12 16:35:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/126885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reccea/pseuds/Reccea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He didn't have a plan when he walked into the room, just a goal to keep going wherever they were going, but he knows it looks like he came in with a map outlined destination. The gloves still look a little silly with his short sleeved shirt. But John slides his hands over Cadman's, both of them pushing Rodney to move just a little bit faster between them and John really doesn't care what it looks like.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rave Atlantis: Bonus Track (Come to Me)

When John gets to the Room, Rodney's dancing with Cadman. It really is just dancing, though. Rodney's hips are moving, but out of synch with Cadman's. He's telling a story, John knows just from the way his hands are waving about. Whatever it is has Cadman laughing.

Even if it had been more than dancing John wouldn't mind. Just the taste of Rodney on Cadman's tongue had been cure enough for that.

Cadman doesn't see John until he's just behind Rodney. She smiles and Rodney's about to turn when John reaches out impulsively. This whole thing has been impulsive, really, but he hasn't regretted anything yet and that gives him free reign to just keep moving.

He slips his gloved hands onto Rodney's shoulders and Rodney stops moving instantly. The gloves had been practical earlier, when the environmental controls had gone haywire in the gate room but John really should have taken them off with the rest of his gear. He hadn't wanted to and when it comes to the Room John just keeps working on instinct. John squeezes Rodney's shoulders, leans in to whisper in his ear, "Don't stop dancing on my account." His voice is deeper than he intended.

Rodney laughs, a little nervously, but his hips start swaying again with an erratic rhythm that is nowhere near the beat. John leans down to press his nose against Rodney's shoulder, just breathing in the faint scent of cologne overlaid with sweat. It's warm and bittersweet, better than what John was expecting.

John pulls his head back up as he slides his hands down Rodney's shoulders, over the muscled contours of his arms. Cadman's dancing in front of Rodney, her hands reaching out for Rodney's hips to guide him back to the beat. It's the flicker of her eyes, the way they slip from Rodney's mouth to John's hands that makes John think of it, that makes him consider it.

She grins because whatever she sees in John's eyes she clearly likes. Combined with Rodney's body slowly moving back against his, that smile makes John feel reckless.

He didn't have a plan when he walked into the room, just a goal to keep going wherever they were going, but he knows it looks like he came in with a map outlined destination. The gloves still look a little silly with his short sleeved shirt. But John slides his hands over Cadman's, both of them pushing Rodney to move just a little bit faster between them and John really doesn't care what it looks like.

"Close your eyes." John didn't know what he was going to say it until he does, and he isn't sure that Rodney will do it anyway. The only command that Rodney is guaranteed to follow without comment or complaint is an order to duck. And Rodney does hesitate for just a moment, clearly thinking things over. Cadman nods so John tilts his head, just to see Rodney's eyes flutter shut.   
John swallows tightly, arousal rushing through him. It isn't the power trip that John got off on. One tour toeing the line for the wrong CO had killed any inclination for that. And the last year of being the base commander for Atlantis had buried it.

It isn't that he wanted Rodney to obey. He just wanted Rodney to trust him. Trust him enough to do this.

John doesn't have a plan. What he has is a taste for Rodney on his tongue and a fascination with Rodney's hands. What it _is_ is that John's hit his limits with voyeurism.

He moves his hands down Rodney's thighs, over and behind and up his back, brushing against Rodney's button fly only when he isn't careful. Rodney's voice picks up speed, still that same even tone but every time John's fingers brush something sensitive it's as if he's pushed Rodney into a gear shift, just to keep up. Cadman's mimicking his movements on the other side and she just keeps giving John this encouraging smile. Like this is a good idea.

He almost takes the gloves off just to feel Rodney's skin under his fingertips. But the full body shudder Rodney gives him when he traces the back of Rodney's neck with his leather-clad fingers is enough to keep gloves on.

Cadman's careful, she figured the game out long before John did, because she keeps her hands on Rodney's clothed skin and never lets him feels the scrape of her nails.

And it's some kind of tacit permission for John to do something stupid. To do this even when he knows he shouldn't. But Rodney's breathing is harsh and fast as he murmurs things that would sound like pleas coming from anyone else. John just can't help himself. He wants to touch and Rodney clearly doesn't mind.

He thumbs the button to Rodney's jeans and the shudder Rodney gives him spurs John on. So that he unzips and tugs down and pulls out, all the while holding his breath. Because this is fast and he is honestly a little afraid Rodney will say no.

But Rodney just gasps, rough and wet and lets his head tip back a little so that John can see the line of his throat, past the bump of the Adam's apple. Down to Cadman's hands splayed on Rodney's chest and his gloved hands below, twisting a rough pattern against skin.

John's crossed a line, he knows he has. But Cadman's motto of no consequences is on repeat in his head and Rodney's pressed up against him, hips rolling into the rhythm John's making so that every time John's hand flexes down Rodney pushes back, creating pressure exactly where John needs it.

It's kind of surreal because they're just one layer away from doing something they can't take back.

Cadman's being good, covering them so that no one can see Rodney's slick skin and John's sliding fist. She's running her hands down Rodney's thighs and John can tell by that little smirk she has that she's really enjoying the show.

Rodney's breathing is labored but he's still talking. A low hum of nothing that makes John's hand move faster just to keep up. Rodney curses, a sharp "Jesus, fuck" when John's thumb curves around and John can't help but wonder if the other night, when Rodney made Cadman come, he did it just by pressing his mouth to her throat and talking.

Cadman drags her hands up, brushing past John's arms on the way up to Rodney's chest. She laughs husky and low, her fingers pinching and John can tell that Rodney's close. He's so fucking close.

John's not too far off either.

The music around them takes on a faster beat, the bass low and loud. Rodney whimpers high in his throat, which, fuck, shouldn't be sexy but it is and John twists, pulling his hand down and pushing his body close just to see if he can make Rodney do it again.

There isn't any room between them, just sweat and shirts that John would just as soon be rid of. His hips are moving to the beat and Rodney's are following without any coaxing. Rodney's flexing his fists, brushing his knuckles against John's thighs like he wants to hold on but can't ask.

John spreads his legs just a little, as much as he can manage right then, with Rodney braced against him, and pushes them into Rodney's hands. Rodney grabs hold, fingers digging in and it will only be two or three strokes more.

John tucks his head against Rodney's neck, tongue slipping out for just a taste of Rodney's sweat. Because John wants to taste something and that will do. It's not bitter the way coffee had tasted on Cadman's tongue, just salty, just Rodney without any filters. John turns his mouth because he can feel Rodney's whole body tensing, pushing back hard against his own.

Then John bites down on Rodney's shoulder through the t-shirt. Tastes cotton and sweat and feels the tautness of Rodney's skin underneath. Feels Rodney's fingers bruising his thighs and feels Rodney's hips slam back as Rodney just lets go.


End file.
